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<title>I Hate You, While You Lust For Me by QuaxoWolf</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986978">I Hate You, While You Lust For Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuaxoWolf/pseuds/QuaxoWolf'>QuaxoWolf</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Cats - Andrew Lloyd Webber</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 09:35:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,004</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28986978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuaxoWolf/pseuds/QuaxoWolf</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a secret reason why Skimbleshanks hates Macavity</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Skimbleshanks/Macavity (Cats)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I Hate You, While You Lust For Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Skimbleshanks walked briskly towards the train station, eager to get out of the cold night air and into a warm boxcar. His emotions, as always, were a mix of joy and sadness. Whenever he was happily surrounded by the other Jellicles, a part of him longed for the chugging sound of the train and the swaying motion as it rolled down the track. But whenever he was walking from engine to caboose, he mourned the loss of lively kittens and smiling whiskers around him. Oh well. No matter where he was, he could handle the sad and just appreciate the joy. He lived a unique life, and he wouldn’t want to change it.<br/>A gust of chill wind sent a shiver through his fur. Tucking his front paws in his vest pockets, he picked up the pace and began jogging towards his destination. “Not far now.”<br/>Not far away, a ginger cat with a dusty coat slid silently through an alley, heading nowhere in particular. His mind was clouded with confusion. Confusion about his feelings. Was this a deep, burning hatred; or was this an intense, demanding desire? He couldn’t figure it out. He didn’t feel desire, not for a long time anyway. It couldn’t be that! But, what was he feeling? Whenever he thought of that tom, that sickeningly punctual and responsible tom, he just lost himself. His heart pounded out of his chest, his lungs gulped for air like he was drowning, his vision grew blurry and his tail lashed from side to side like a whip!<br/>Actually, those feelings he understood. He had those feelings a lot whenever he thought about the Jellicles. His body lost itself to hatred and anger! A need to maul and maim and taste blood!...but that’s where he became confused. His need to kill was suspiciously absent whenever he thought about Skimbleshanks. Instead of wanting to taste blood, he wanted to taste…what? Him? Ridiculous! The napoleon of crime didn’t need to stoop so low as to want a Jellicle!<br/>“I don’t! I don’t.” It sounded less convincing with each passing second. He stomped his paws harder and fluffed up his mangy coat against the cold. “I’ll show you.” He said even though he wasn’t sure who “you” was. “Next time I see that perfectly groomed coat I’ll rip it to shreds!”<br/>The shrill cry of the train whistle startled Macavity, he hadn’t realized he’d wandered so close to the station. Peaking around the corner he saw the flash of orange that was the object of his confusions. ‘I’ll rip him to shreds’ he thought as he dashed after him towards the awaiting train.<br/>Without thinking he dove into an open car and found himself amongst piles of luggage. He slunk out of sight as the bagmen finished stacking the piles and closed the door behind them. The train’s whistle sounded again. The boxcar jerked once, twice, then swayed gently as the train began another journey.<br/>The hours passed as Macavity sat quietly, waiting for his target. He had heard the railway cat’s song before; he knew that he would come through the luggage van eventually. And he was patient.<br/>The door finally opened to reveal Skimbleshanks unbuttoning his vest. Shrugging out of it, he draped it over a small bag next to him and walked deeper into the room. “Let’s see” he mumbled aloud. “Best check the destination tags and make sure they’re all piled correctly.”<br/>He sauntered towards the very pile Macavity was crouching behind. When Skimble was less than a tail’s length away, he paused, squinting into the darkness. Realization filled his eyes a second before Macavity launched himself out of his hiding place. “Macav-“<br/>Macavity threw all his weight at his target and slammed him, face first, against the wall. He grabbed Skimble’s hands and held them tightly between his shoulder blades. Skimble could barely let out a painful grunt, the wind knocked out of him from being thrown against the wall.<br/>“Bloody hell!” the railway cat finally managed to protest. “I demand to know what in Everlasting Cat you’re doing aboard my train?”<br/>That brought a chuckle out of Macavity. “You’re in no position to be demanding anything Shanks.” Even though Skimble’s face was pressed harshly against the wall, the look of hatred was clearly visible as he strained to see his attacker. Macavity relished that look, it was how all cats should look at him. It always made his heart beat faster and his teeth long for blood. Now that look also brought a new, strange, stirring with it.<br/>Keeping a firm hold on his captive’s wrists, Macavity bite down hard on Skimble’s collar and leaned his weight back to choke him. Skimble gasped and sputtered as he desperately tried to get another breath of air. His eyes began to bulge and his nose grew pale.<br/>Suddenly, the stress release on the collar gave way with an audible “snap”, nearly sending Macavity tumbling backwards. Skimble tried to use this moment to break free, but Macavity wasn’t a fool. He was prepared for the collar to break and was only thrown off for less than a moment. He quickly rammed his shoulder back into Skimble and used the instant to bind Skimble’s hands behind his back with the broken collar. The bell that Skimble was so fond off suddenly began cutting into his wrists and brought fear of what Macavity might have planned.<br/>Having the wind knocked out of you twice and being choked in the span of two minutes is hard on anyone. Skimble gasped loudly for breath, the desire to escape replaced by the desire to simply remain conscious. His legs wobbled beneath him and his tail hung limp. “Just do what you came for.” He could barely force the words out. “Pollicle trash.”<br/>“Gladly” the word slithered from between his fangs like a snake. He wrapped a paw around Skimble’s neck and tightened his grip. “You’ve cause me enough trouble Shanks. I’ll be glad to see you gone.”<br/>A choked cough was the only reply.<br/>Did he really want Shanks gone though? Never again seeing his flame-colored fur, or hear the faint ticking of his watch, or being driven mad with his devotion to schedules and order. That thought bothered him more than it should. He unconsciously loosened his grip enough for Skimble to catch his breath.<br/>“What are you waiting for? Me to beg?” he accused, mistaking the loosening grip as intentional. “I’ll never beg, you won’t get that satisfaction out of me.”<br/>“No.” Macavity said slowly, a sickly grin spreading across his face. “I don’t think you will. But you’re wrong about one thing, you are going to satisfy me. One way…or another.” He bit down hard on the scruff in front of him and pressed his hips, and his growing bulge, against Skimble’s backside.<br/>Realization of what Macavity had planned made the bulge pressing into his rear feel even worse than the wall harshly grating against his cheek or the teeth buried in his scruff. He tried to cry out a protest but the paw around his throat tightened again, keeping him silent and dizzy.<br/>A strange thrill filled Macavity as he ground his hips against his target. He could feel his member growing inside himself, nearly ready to be released from its sheath. Skimble’s struggling body only served to excite and stimulate him even more. He repositioned his teeth on Skimble’s scruff and began thrusting his hips hard against his “prey”.<br/>The lack of oxygen sent Skimble dropping to the floor as he blacked out. Skimble’s falling body finally caused Macavity to release his grip and let him drop. He stared down the heap of orange fur laying at his feet. Only the steady rise and fall of orange chest fur indicated that he was still alive.<br/>He roughly grabbed Skimble’s feet and dragged him to a dark corner of the boxcar. Laying Skimble facedown, he lay on top of him again and began grinding his hips. His member’s sensitive tip now hung out of his body and he nearly went mad as it rubbed the orange fur beneath him. But then again, he was mad already.<br/>The pressure of being under someone rubbed Skimble against the ground in a painful way. That pain was what he woke up to as he regained consciousness, horror almost sent him back to the darkness.<br/>He began wriggling and bucking, trying to through the uncomfortable weight off. He desperately tried to claw at Macavity’s underbelly with his front claws, but they were still tied at an impossible angle behind his back so all he could do was kick at empty air with his hind legs. He let out a great caterwaul even though he knew it would do no good, no one would be near the baggage car at this stage in the journey.<br/>The sudden struggle only served to arouse Macavity even more. He once again dug his teeth into Skimble’s scruff and shook his head in an act of savage instincts. His hip grinds turned to thrusts as his arousal neared its full growth. Pausing for just a moment, Macavity bit down harder on the scruff, blood slowly trickled across his tongue.<br/>No sound but ragged breathing came from Skimble. Even so, those breaths spoke more hate than words ever could. Skimble knew what was going to happen, and he knew he could do nothing to stop it. But he decided to keep his earlier oath, and he spat the words out like poison. “I will NOT beg Macavity! That is one satisfaction you WON’T get out of me!” <br/>A lusty groan muffled by the scruff fur was the only acknowledgment from Macavity before he gave a well-aimed, and powerful, thrust.<br/>Skimble clenched his teeth so hard he thought they would break, but he was stubbornly determined to refuse any sounds of pain to escape past his whiskers.<br/>Only the very tip of Macavity’s member had gone in, but that already had them both seeing stars. (For very different reasons.) Macavity began pumping his hips hard and fast, going deeper with every thrust. He tugged at Skimble’s scruff and groaned as he came closer and closer to being fully inside the tom beneath him. He could feel every one of Skimble’s muscles tighten as his body was violated. No female he’d ever taken had felt like this, not even the other toms he had forced himself on. He put his paws on either side of Skimble’s shoulders and quickened his already rapid pace.<br/>Skimble continued to try and throw Macavity off. He timed his twists and turns and bucks in such a way to make it as unpleasant an experience as possible. A few times he came close, but the teeth buried firmly in his scruff and the member buried deeply inside him did not dislodge. He eventually stopped fighting when he felt something that would make any struggle pointless.<br/>Macavity felt that something too. He reared up his head, pulling at the scruff in a painful way, and basked in the feeling. They could both feel Macavity’s penile spikes forming deep inside Skimble. They dug into Skimble’s inner wall and locked the two together.<br/>Macavity finally released Skimble’s scruff and leaned down to lick his captive’s ear. “We’re locked together now Shanks.” He whispered with a triumphant note in his voice. “You’ll have to satisfy me if you ever want to be free.”<br/>No response.<br/>“I don’t think I’ve ever been this deep inside a tom before” his voice was velvety smooth “what’s it feel like? Have you ever had another tom this deep in you before?”<br/>A flicked ear was the only answer.<br/>“Is that really all you have to say to me?” The words were thickly laced with gloating, but there was a hint of actual sadness. Just a bit. This time he bit onto the ear Skimble had flicked, and he began thrusting again.<br/>He alternated between slow, heavy thrusts that pushed Skimble forward across the floor and quick, hard thrusts that lifted Skimble’s rear slightly off the ground. He savored any part of Skimble he happened to be biting at the moment, and rode him long into the night.<br/>The motions caused Skimble’s face to push even harder into the boxcar floor. His cheek grated painfully against the floorboards and tears began to fill his eyes. Whether from pain or humiliation, it didn’t matter, Skimble refused to let a single one fall.<br/>Macavity’s groaning grew louder as he approached his peak. “Come on Shanks” he gasped “if you just give me a nice moan I’ll let you release too. I’m really close you know.” He gave the shoulder fur beneath him a sensual lick. “You’ve had to enjoy this at least a little.”<br/>Lifting his head slightly, Skimble spat his first words out through gritted teeth. “Not one bit.”<br/>Macavity licked him again and chuckled. “Maybe you didn’t want to, but I’m certain you’re lying.” He forced a paw under Skimble and ran it down to try and grab Skimble’s member. But…it wasn’t there. ‘Did he not push it out of his body yet?’ Macavity wondered has he rubbed his paw around the area. But there was no bulge either. Skimble told the truth, he wasn’t aroused at all.<br/>Skimble lifted his head more and turned to glare daggers over his shoulder. “Not. One. Bit.”<br/>A surprising rage overcame Macavity and he slammed Skimble’s head back to the floor. He began pounding his hips mercilessly, all thoughts of pleasure forgotten. The only thought on his mind was repaying Skimble physical pain for the emotional pain he now felt. He pulled back harshly, dragging his penile spikes through Skimble’s body; but there was no scream. He bit down on his scruff so hard they were both surprised a chunk of flesh wasn’t ripped out; no scream.<br/>Macavity, now furious, clawed at Skimble’s back, twisted his arms to a worse angle, bent his tail backwards, choked him again! Anything he could think of to make Skimble beg for it to end! Nothing aside from an occasional grunt when the force of a thrust knocked the wind out of him.<br/>True to his word, Skimble didn’t give Macavity the satisfaction of begging. Actually, he accomplished more than that. Macavity became so blind with rage he couldn’t even feel the satisfaction of his own release. As he pumped his sperm, he saw only red. He no longer felt a lust towards this cat, he wanted him dead for this humiliation! But his anger worked against him.<br/>All of his rage-fueled actions had tired him, while Skimble lay there conserving his strength. The second Macavity’s spikes withdrew, Skimble planted his feet on the floor and thrust his backside up with as much force as he could. Macavity was thrown off and tumbled across the floor. Calling every last reserve of strength, Skimble pulled at the collar binding his wrists until he heard it “rip” apart. Freeing his arms for the first time in who knew how long. <br/>Skimble had no time to ease his sore shoulders, Macavity was on his feet and charging at him with claws extended. They leapt together and began scratching and biting at anything they could grab hold of. A horrible sound of screeches and hissing filled the baggage car as the two cats battled.<br/>Macavity managed to sink his fangs into Skimble’s neck, but the angle left Skimble enough room to do the same to him. They continued clawing at each other’s belly, refusing to release their hold on each other’s neck. Their screeching muffled into growls and groans as they wrestled to gain the upper hand. <br/>Without warning, two giant hands reached out and grabbed each of the cats by the scruff. The hands rudely lifted the fighting cats into the air and away from each other. Skimble dangled obediently from the hand that he recognized as belonging to the conductor. Macavity, however, flailed and hissed as he tried to sink his teeth into the man’s arm.<br/>A booming voice stilled Macavity for only an instant. “What in bloody hell is going on here?” He fixed Macavity with a harsh scowl. “Yer lucky this train is going at speed or I’d through you off the caboose for attacking a crew member like that!” After gently dropping Skimble to the floor the conductor carried the fidgeting Macavity to an empty pet crate and shoved him in, slamming the lid closed. “Mangy beast.” He muttered above the racket coming from the now occupied crate. Honestly, he didn’t even like cats.<br/>The blood on the floor brought his attention back to his feline crewmember. He quickly grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around Skimble, cradling him like an infant. He didn’t like cats, but Skimble had worked hard and earned himself a special place in the man’s heart. “Let’s get you to a warm bed” he spoke softly as they left the luggage van.<br/>Macavity’s crate wouldn’t be checked again until the next morning. It was perfectly intact and unmoved, but it was completely empty.<br/>An hour later saw Skimble curled up in the crook of the conductor’s arm as he dozed in his bunk. His wounds had stopped bleeding and his shoulders were only slightly sore from being bent backwards. His rear wasn’t as pained as you might think; for he had, in fact, known what it felt like to have other toms though he would never have admitted it to Macavity.<br/>He stayed curled up with the conductor for the rest of the night, listening to the man’s breathing. Waiting for him to fall into a deep sleep. When he was sure that conductor wouldn’t wake again for a long while, he couldn’t hold it in any longer. He curled even deeper into himself, buried his nose in his paws, and cried himself to sleep. And he kept this secret ‘till the end of his nine lives</p>
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